Title: Giving Thanks
By: LoraLee2
Pairing: mostly gen, mild JJ/Will in one part
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Usual disclaimers, I do not own any CM characters, I'm just borrowing them and will return them in the same condition as I found them.
Summary: Thanksgiving day fic.

***

6:00 a.m.

The sound of running steps drew him from sleep a mere second before the small body launched itself onto his stomach, "Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, get up, get up. Up, Daddy, up." Hotch smiled at his son as he lifted him straight up in a traditional airplane pose. "Up, up, up. Me fly."

When his arms started to weaken he pulled the small boy down to blow raspberries against his belly. "You want to go wake up Uncle Sean?"

"Yeah. Me wake, me wake."

Hotch stood up and went to his dresser to pull out a pair of jeans as he listened to Jack invade the guest room, resulting in another round of "me fly"s. He pulled on his t-shirt and headed barefoot for the kitchen.

When Sean had first announced his intentions to become a chef, Hotch had thought it was a huge mistake, he looked around at the preparations his brother had made last night and remembered the fun they'd had just getting ready to get ready to cook and thanked God he had pulled his head out of his ass before he had damaged his relationship with his brother, especially over something as inconsequential as his career choice.

7:00 a.m.

A few miles away JJ smiled as Will brought Henry to her to nurse. She thought about the day ahead, her doctor had approved most of the traditional Thanksgiving she loved, nixing any of Will's Cajun dishes for fear of upsetting the baby's tiny tummy. Oddly enough planning the meal had convinced her that she and Will truly had a bright future together - as a loving couple, not just as parents - they had managed to blend Pennsylvanian and New Orleans' traditions, taking into account what JJ could and couldn't eat while breastfeeding and what her family would expect.

She had been sure that she and Henry would be fine, but her mom and Will had managed to convince her to let her family come to them for their first holiday as a family. She glanced at the bedside clock and realized that they needed to get the turkey in the oven soon if it was going to be ready for one o'clock. She expected everyone to be starving after the four-hour drive and didn't want to disappoint.

She'd nearly panicked when she thought about her family seeing her new home before she'd had time to fully decorate, but when her father had promised he and her brother would teach Will how to fix the leaky shower head after dinner she'd given in. The men had only met once before, and while they had gotten along well, having a project to work on would certainly help the three bond.

In fact, she'd considered creating a few more projects for her men to bond over, but had refrained, not wanting her father to feel Will wasn't going to be able to take care of her. She might be a fully-trained FBI agent, but she'd always be 'Daddy's little girl.'

She silently thanked God for the unconditional love of her family and the fact that she'd decided to let Will fully into her life.

Will watched his hopefully future wife nurse their child and thought about the day ahead. JJ's parents and her brother, his wife and their children would be coming later today. They would all have their first holiday together in their new home. He was especially looking forward to showing off his newborn son.

She would never tell him, but he knew, that her fear of commitment had nearly brought her to break up with him rather than 'trap' him with her pregnancy. He didn't know what had happened to bring her around, but he thanked God she hadn't cut him out of her life.

8:00 a.m.

Morgan and Clooney returned from their morning run to be greeted by a blinking light on his home answering machine, the one he kept just for his tenants. He pressed the button, "Mr. Morgan, this is Irena Rodriguez. I hate to call you on Thanksgiving, especially so early, but my stove stopped working and if I can't cook Thanksgiving dinner the kids will be so disappointed. I was hoping you could get somebody to come over here and look at it."

Morgan hit the callback button and after a few questions promised Mrs. Rodriguez he'd be there in thirty minutes. He employed a property manager from sheer necessity, but he enjoyed getting out and interacting with his tenants when he was able. He jumped into the shower for a quick rinse before heading for the door. He had his hand on the knob when a thought hit him and he made a quick side trip to his storage closet.

He pulled in front of Mrs. Rodriguez's small three-bedroom house at exactly eight-thirty and hopped out of the car. He took the box from the backseat and grabbed Clooney's leash. Mrs. Rodriguez had three little ones and Clooney loved kids. He knocked quietly on the front door, if the kids weren't up yet, he didn't want to wake them.

"Mr. Morgan, thank you for coming so quickly."

"Hey, no problem. It's all part of the job. Do you mind if Clooney comes in, I thought the kids might like to play with him while I work on the stove." Just then a small face peeked around the corner and screeched with joy at the sight of the big, happy dog. Mrs. Rodriguez opened the door wider to invite them in.

Morgan looked around the small but clean home and smiled, looks like the Rodriguez's had settled in well. He followed the young mother to the kitchen and noted the turkey sitting in a roasting pan waiting to go in the oven, which probably wouldn't be fixed anywhere near time to cook the bird for a noontime meal. He placed the box on the countertop, took his pocketknife out and slit the tape holding it shut.

"I figured you could probably use this to get that turkey going." He pulled the electric roaster from the box, "My mom gave this to me for Christmas four years ago and I haven't even opened the box yet." He handed her the small instruction pamphlet that fell out, "Think you can figure out how to use it, while I work on the stove?"

"I can't take this, Mr. Morgan. Your Maman gave it to you."

"And my Mama meant for it to get used. With my job I don't even use the crock-pot she got me for my birthday the year before that. I'm afraid I'll get called in and either forget to turn it off and come home to a charcoal house, or turn it off but not put it in the fridge and come home to a big pot of chili growing a fur hat. If you take it off my hands, you'll actually be doing me a favor, it's just taking up space I could use for something else."

He looked at the small pamphlet, "Oh, look right there's it's got instructions for how to do a turkey. You get it set up, while I take a look at the stove."

Morgan halted any further argument by opening the oven door and sticking his head inside to check for any obvious problems. He held back a chuckle as he heard Mrs. Rodriguez move the roaster to a better place on the countertop and transfer the turkey into it.

He spotted the problem easily and headed out to his vehicle for his toolbox. He should be able to fix the stove inside of an hour. As he turned back to the house he sent up a silent prayer, thanking the God he had so recently reconciled with that he was in a position to help the young widow make a great Thanksgiving for her family.

9:00 a.m.

Reid smiled at his mother across the table. He'd waited all night at the airport on standby just hoping for a seat to open up. She smiled back at him, greeting him warmly and made it all worth it.

He handed her the small gift he had brought along, a picture his father had sent him of Reid and Diana sitting on he couch of their old house reading a book that was almost as large as the then-six-year-old Spencer had been. His father had had a copy made for himself and sent Reid the original and Reid had asked Garcia to blow it up to eight-by-ten size and Prentiss had picked out a frame for it.

He didn't know that Garcia had spent nearly two hours tweaking it with her Photoshop program; he just knew the eight-by-ten seemed to look better than the original. He did know that Morgan, who had the best relationship with his mother of anyone he knew, had assured him that his mother would love it.

He watched cautiously while she opened it, hoping for a good reaction, braced for a bad one. She looked at it, "Spencer, it's beautiful. Where did you find it?"

He spoke cautiously, "Dad sent me the original and my friend Garcia enlarged it for me. Do you remember Garcia; you met once?"

"Oh, yes. She the colorful one with all the computers; right?"

"Yes, yes, that's Garcia."

"That's wonderful. And it was very thoughtful of your father to send you this. You should go visit him while you're in town."

"I --" he had vaguely considered doing that, "I wanted to spend the day with you."

"Oh, just go for an hour or two. You two should catch up."

"All right. If you're sure you don't mind?"

"Call him now. See if he'll meet you for lunch. Then you can come back here and tell me al about it."

Reid dialed the number he had memorized a mere month ago and whispered a quiet thank you to his mother, and maybe to someone a little higher, he had a wonderful loving mother, magnificent friends, and maybe, if he could force himself to open up, he had a chance to reconnect with his father.

10:00 a.m.

Garcia poured more another batch of potatoes into the industrial mixer on the countertop and flipped the switch. Carefully she added the ingredients to create mashed potatoes for a thousand. Every holiday her church and two others borrowed the kitchens of the local high school and provided a hot meal for the poor and she was proud to be one of the ringleaders.

She loved that every morsel of food and every minute of help was donated. Not one person was here because they had to be, they all wanted to be there:

Morgan would be showing up later to help with the clean-up - he refused to go anywhere near the cooking end of things, but was a wiz with the industrial dishwasher. Emily had overseen the high school volunteers last night setting up the tables and was going to try to come by between lunch with her father and dinner with her mother. Hotch and his hottie brother Sean would be coming over after Hotch dropped Jack off at Haley's.

Rossi had been noncommittal but she had a strong feeling she'd be seeing him before the day was through. Reid had called earlier to let her know he'd been able to get a flight out after all, so he couldn't come this time. And of course JJ was a bit busy this year, you know, recovering from childbirth.

She was even more pleased that this year she had wrangled a new helper. Kevin looked adorable in his little chef's apron trying to figure out the best way to peel a squash with removing any fingers. She took pity on him and grabbed Cheryl to continue mashing potatoes and went over to show him the proper (meaning safest) way to peel the tough-skinned vegetable.

Once she had him settled and was assured he'd still have all his digits when she returned, she left the industrial kitchen to check the dining area. She looked around with satisfaction at the tables already set with the salt, pepper and butter; later they would add the tureens of gravy, as well as pitchers of milk, juice and carafes of coffee. She checked that the signs showing where to return dirty dishes and where to dump the trash were still clearly posted.

Next she moved over to the classroom nearest the cafeteria and gazed in amazement at the stacks and stacks of blankets and sleeping bags piled up against the walls. The delivery men had even kept them sorted, the young boys' bags were along the rear wall, with the young girls' bags next to them, then teen boys' and girls' along the next wall, adult sleeping bags and a variety of warm blankets along a third wall.

She couldn't be sure, but she had a feeling that the 'anonymous donation' just might be the result of a conversation she'd had at the beginning of the month with a certain millionaire author who still had the drive of a new agent. He'd come into her office and commented on the basket of hat/mitten/scarf sets next to her desk. She'd explained that she and several of the other church ladies knit all year long to be able to ensure that every person who walked through the doors on Thanksgiving would walk out with a set. She was working on preteen girl sets that week and he'd commented on the wide variety of colors.

He'd certainly asked enough questions to account for the fact that the number of each type of sleeping bag or blanket exactly matched the number of boys, girls and adults they anticipated arriving today.

She sent a prayer to the Man above for her family and friends, the new love in her life, and for that life itself, which she had come so close to losing. "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year" came on, piped through the wireless speakers that Kevin had set up this morning; it really, really is she thought.

11:00 a.m.

David Rossi looked at the Caller-ID window on his cell phone - Galen. He smiled widely as he answered. These calls may be few and far between, but he treasured each and every one. He listened as Connie told him about the new developments in their lives; he smiled when she mentioned the mysterious scholarship she had received to the local community college.

Seemed somebody had distributed flyers at her place of employment and she had talked Alicia into applying with her. She had started taking business courses and was loving them, Leesh was taking courses to go into medical transcription and already had a lead on a job when she received her certificates in six months.

He sent up a prayer of thanks that the scholarship offer he'd arranged with the college had worked and he'd been able to help Connie and Leesh improve their lives (and two of the other strippers that worked with Connie and had gotten flyers put on their cars). After all he'd been blessed with enough money from his book sales and speaking engagements to help a few people less fortunate than himself.

Now, he just needed to figure out how to get Georgie into an anger management course. Once that young man managed to get a handle on his temper, he had a great future in construction. Kid was good with his hands, just too volatile to keep on the job site. Connie said he was doing better now that they'd begun to put the past behind them.

Rossi gave a second thanks for his new "kids" who had helped bring peace to those youngsters and to himself.

Twenty minutes later he wound up the conversation and climbed into his SUV to head over to Hotch's for lunch. He'd heard a lot about Hotch's "little" brother over the years and looked forward to meeting him. Not to mention the little fact that apparently the kid was an excellent cook, putting even Gideon to shame.

12:00 noon

Steven Gideon watched as his father practically danced (and occasionally actually danced) around his kitchen. He had no idea what had led to his father's sudden retirement a year ago, but he was thankful for the time it had given them to be together. He'd shown up for every holiday and every birthday, usually with a trunk full of groceries, claiming a need to cook for his grandchildren. Oh, and a pile of souvenirs from his travels around the United Stated and Canada.

He thanked the Lord that his father had survived his years in the FBI and come out intact. He finally had the opportunity to develop the relationship he had wished for when he was younger.

Jason Gideon smiled gently as Steven's wife sneaked a hand in to steal a bite of the turkey he was carving. Steven and the girls were setting the table behind them. He'd found a peace in the last year that he'd never felt before. Yes, he had regrets about the people he'd left behind, but he found (to his great surprise) that he didn't miss the job at all.

Retirement suited him in a way he'd never expected, he'd traveled extensively for work, but he'd never had the time to enjoy any of that travel, now he had nothing but time. He'd started journaling his bird watching efforts and had even published a couple articles on the subject.

He didn't know about happy yet, his losses still pained him, but he was certainly content. He thanked whoever was watching over him for giving him this second life.

1:00 p.m.

Brooklyn, New York, Elle finished scraping the squash from the pan into a serving dish and set it on the table. Moving back home was probably the best thing she could have done for herself after her meltdown. After spending a month being sullen and moping around her mother's apartment, she had finally decided to take Hotch's advice and get some professional help. She'd come to realize he was right, talking about her problems helped.

Of course there were still a few things that she could only speak about with her therapist, thank God for that patient/doctor confidentiality laws, but once she'd trusted her enough it had really helped to understand why she had done what she had done, and then to forgive herself for her actions.

She smiled as one of her nieces ran through the kitchen only to be chased back out with instructions to watch the parade with Daddy. She loved being able to be with her family like this. She had really missed her family while she was working for the FBI; holiday dinners, talking over coffee and donuts, impromptu shopping trips.

In addition to her new closeness with her family she was much happier now that she'd gotten her private investigator's license, the pay wasn't nearly as good, but she was able to get more personally involved with her clients and follow up on them when the cases were over. Something she had never been able to do as an agent. She also had time to donate a couple evenings a week to teaching self-defense classes at the Y.

She smiled as she looked into the living room, where her new boyfriend, Tim, sat watching the parade with her nieces and her brother-in-laws. He was her co-instructor at the Y and it was quite possible that (aside from Reid) she'd never met a gentler soul in her life.

She silently thanked God the she had been able to create such a wonderful new life for herself after she had so nearly destroyed herself.

***